


Restraint

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Transylvania 6-5000
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Holding Hands, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Sometimes, it's kind of difficult just to keep their hands off each other long enough to get into the shower. Most times, actually.Arguably, every time.





	Restraint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnetheCatDetective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/gifts).



> Written for a prompt on the [JGCU prompt meme](https://jgcu.dreamwidth.org/3760.html?thread=5808#cmt5808).

In all honesty, he and Jack have— Well, you know, they’ve _done_ it at least a few dozen times now, and they’ve never actually gotten to the point where they get their clothes off. Gil doesn’t think it’s an intentional thing on his part, exactly, and it’s certainly not something _Jack_ seems to have done intentionally: it’s just that they get so excited, and Gil doesn’t want to allow for anything that will stop Jack from kissing him or from holding his hand for more than a few seconds, so they just…

They just never _get_ to the getting undressed part.

They’ve even gotten undressed together, once or twice, to go in the shower, except that usually once Jack gets his shirt off Gil is a little over-excited, and they end up on the bed or against the wall or (more times than Gil is willing to admit) on the floor, grinding against each other and moaning into one another’s mouths, and—

Well.

Gil is always just so _tired_ after sex, he usually falls asleep, and Jack just showers first.

This time, Gil and Jack pointedly look the other way from each other, and Gil tries to focus as he drags his shirt over his head and wriggles out of his slacks, because he is _determined_ to actually get in the shower with him, this beautiful man – he’s just so beautiful! – and to get his hands on him, and work the soap up to a lather…

Gil fidgets, and he says, “Oh, Jack…”

“No!” Jack says sternly, and Gil hears the click and slither of his belt being undone, and the fabric swish of his pants falling to the ground. “We are _going_ to shower together, Gil, and we’re going to be naked! Do not turn around.” Gil lets out a low moan, fidgeting from one foot to the other as he pulls off his underwear, and he takes a few steps back: as soon as his shoulders touch against Jack’s, Jack lets out a groan of frustration, but presses his back up against Gil’s.

“You’re so warm,” Gil mumbles, his eyes closed. It’s more than that, of course – it isn’t just that Jack is warm, or handsome, or sexy, it’s just that… _He_ loves _Gil_ , and that’s the best thing of all, it really is, The fact that he knows when he gets soppy over Jack, Jack’s right there, looking back at him, and, “Oh, I just want to hold your hand—”

“ _No!”_ Jack insists, and Gil feels the shift as he pulls off his boxers. “Keep your eyes closed, come on—”

And Jack’s fingers interlink through Gil’s, and it’s like they’re two puzzle pieces connecting together, like it’s meant to be like this. Their fingers are even the same kind of length, and it just feels so _right_ …

Gil sighs blissfully as Jack leads him into the big hotel bathroom, which has a whole little _room_ with several showerheads – Mom had booked them the honeymoon suite because Dad hadn’t being paying attention (although something tells Gil Dad might have booked them the honeymoon suite anyway and just figured they’d “sort out” some kind of sleeping arrangement that didn’t involve Gil’s body wrapped around Jack’s like a ribbon), and it’s— It’s really a _lot_ , but it is nice…

He hears Jack fiddling with the water jets, and he leans forward, pressing his cheek against Jack’s shoulder, rubbing himself right against Jack’s skin and inhaling, taking in the cologne he got at Christmas, and—

“Stop it,” Jack says. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Gil says. “I just _want_ you, Jack, and I—”

“I know, but I’m not going to give in, because if we do that first, you’re going to fall asleep in the shower.”

“So commanding,” Gil murmurs, sliding a finger down the length of Jack’s spine, and feeling him shiver. “Would you like it if I called you Captain J—” Gil is cut off with an _mmf_ when Jack turns and drags him into a kiss, simultaneously pulling him under the spray of the showers, which are gloriously warm, but not too hot.

Gil moans into Jack’s mouth, feeling the water rain down on them and work on the tension under his skin, but when he tries to move closer and grind their hips together, Jack takes him firmly by the waist and pushes him away.

“ _Jack!”_ Gil says plaintively.

“I’m on a mission,” Jack says, his brow furrowed, his face a mask of determination. Distantly, Gil thinks he can imagine hearing Jack’s train of thought, of wanting to pin Gil against the wall and grind themselves together, wanting to kiss him all over, and Gil wants that, he _absolutely_ wants that—

But then Jack takes up the soap, lathers up a flannel, and begins scrubbing Gil down.

It’s unbearable. It’s horrible. It’s _torture_!

He can feel Jack’s hands sliding over his body as they scrub him, and Jack is just so concentrated, so focused, and Gil can’t bear it, can’t bear how hard he is, and, “Oh, Jack, I’m _dripping_ —”

Jack lets out a desperate, cut-off noise, and he looks down at Gil’s cock, which is just about the hardest it’s ever been, but then returns to lathering a circle on Gil’s thigh. He feels it twitch, and Jack moans.

“Jack…”

“I know,” Jack says, his voice softening, and he presses a kiss to Gil’s side. “I know, I know, Gil, but— God, we’re supposed to be showering…”

“We’re in the shower.”

“I’m not even clean!”

“You look really clean,” Gil says, and he reaches out, but Jack catches his wrist, biting his lip. “Can’t I wash you?”

“Okay,” Jack agrees, more readily than Gil expected him to – and more readily, he thinks, than Jack maybe meant to. Gil is a little more hurried in rubbing the soap over his skin, initially, but oh, it’s—

It’s _nice_.

The hotel soap works up to a great lather, and it leaves all these white suds on Jack’s skin, all these lovely bubbles, and Gil rinses him off carefully before focusing back on the soap, getting Jack nice and clean… And Jack is smiling. He’s got a little grin on his face as he looks at Gil, looks at him so softly, and oh…

“ _Jack_ ,” Gil says, and Jack winds his hands tenderly in Gil’s hair, dragging his fingers through the thick blond mop, and Gil squirms in his hold as Jack’s fingernails scratch oh-so-pleasantly at Gil’s scalp, and he kisses him more eagerly, his fingers gripping tightly at Jack’s thighs, and he slides forward, grinding himself up against Jack’s—

Jack puts one hand between their legs, and Gil fidgets as he plays over Gil’s foreskin, carefully rolling it back, and then he just, just wraps his hand around the _both_ of them, and Gil feels his hips stutter. There’s nothing quite like it, being pressed up against Jack like this, grinding up against one another, Jack’s hand around them both, and Gil feels his knees go weak, and drops back against the shower wall.

“Can I— Can I try something?” Jack asks, his breath hot against Gil’s jaw, and Gil shivers, feeling the water drip down his shoulders and down his back.

“You can do whatever you want,” he says, and Jack drops down. “Oh, Jack, your knees!”

“They’re on the mat,” Jack says distractedly, and then his mouth is wrapped around Gil’s cock, and Gil actually thinks – just for a second or two – that he might die. His vision goes black, and he focuses _just_ on that, just on that, of Jack’s mouth – Jack’s tongue and his mouth and his lips – wrapped around the head of Gil’s cock, his tongue flicking over the underside of Gil’s foreskin, and Gil _wails_ , the sound echoing off the tile of the shower room. He gasps and groans as Jack sucks him in, and it’s just so hot and it’s so wet and it’s _Jack_ , and he doesn’t know where to put his hands, oh, where should he puts his hands? He doesn’t know!

“Jack—" Jack grabs for his hands, interlinking their fingers, and Gil sighs, staring down at him and watching the water matt Jack’s hair to his head, watching his lips as he just—

Oh, it’s not like thrusting against Jack’s belly or his cock at _all_ , it’s not the same at all! It’s like he’s being _enveloped_ , and it’s just so soft and so wet, and it’s so hot, and best of all is Jack’s expression, Jack’s closed eyes and his focus and the little twitch of the muscles in his jaws as he…

“Oh, Jack, I don’t know if you can _take_ —" He is aware of the way his voice rises in pitch before he cuts himself off, and then he can feel, oh, gosh, God, is that Jack’s _throat_? He doesn’t know, but he thinks he can feel Jack _swallowing_ , anyway, and he’s even quicker than he usually is, but…

He can feel it coiling up in his belly, feel the tension draw up tighter and tighter and tighter, and when Jack squeezes his hands, Gil just can’t hold it back. He moans Jack’s name as he comes, and Jack doesn’t even spit it out, doesn’t even spit it out – he swallows it! He swallows—

When Jack slowly takes Gil out of his mouth, Gil just _collapses_ , landing in Jack’s lap and pinning him down against the big shower floor (that isn’t quite big enough for them, what with both being a good bit past six feet, but both of them just sort of bunch up their legs), and he sloppily kisses his way into Jack’s mouth, cradling the back of his head so that he doesn’t bash the other man’s skull against the tile.

“Oh, Jack,” Gil mumbles against his lips when they break apart with a wet sound. He’s— Gosh, he’s tired. He feels like he could go to sleep right here, under the warm spray of the water, with Jack right underneath him. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Gil, but if you fall asleep here, you will not wake up.” Gil chuckles, and then he clambers off Jack’s body and out of the shower room, sitting down on the mat. He doesn’t even bother to get up, just drags a towel down off the rack and wraps himself in it, so he can watch Jack turn off the shower heads.

“Can I try it on you?” Gil asks in a mumble, when Jack hauls him up by one elbow. “When I wake up?” He presses his cheek right against Jack’s damp chest, wrapping the towel around him too, and he barely hears Jack’s chuckle where it’s muffled against the top of his head. He’s just…

So tired.

“Love you,” he mumbles again, and Jack drags him down onto a pile of dry towels to lie on his chest.

“You’re gonna get a cold,” Jack retorts, but he doesn’t shove him off, or force him to get dry. As Gil drifts off, he vaguely hears a quiet, “ _Just like I said.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on Dreamwidth](https://dictionarywrites.dreamwidth.org/2287.html). Requests always open. I also run a [Jeff Goldblum-centric comm](https://jgcu.dreamwidth.org/)!


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